Deciphertheriddler - Tumblr Posts
A L N
Headcanons A-Z
A - Advocate - How do they show their support for others? Are there any causes that they publicly support? Why?
Not a very supportive person if we’re being honest here... Roman is a believer in tough love and if you want to succeed at something, you’re going to have to do it yourself. Nobody supported him when he most needed it so he doesn’t feel too concerned watching somebody else going through a tough patch. He’ll have somebody’s back if he likes them enough but ultimately he’s got more respect for people who don’t ask for help and rely on themselves instead. He can be supportive in other areas like if you want to do something or feel like having a change in your life, go ahead. It’s your life, not his. Knock yourself out for all he cares. You do you, honey. While he’s not going to go screaming it to the rooftops, Roman does believe children at the very least shouldn’t be forced to abide by strict social expectations that go against their own personal wishes. Even though it’s purely because of his own experiences, Roman believes children are intelligent enough to make their own choices in life and doesn’t think it’s right to pressure them to adhere to other people’s standards.
L - Lover - How do they show love? Do they love themselves? Do they believe that all you need is love?
Given his upbringing, Roman never received genuine love and affection from his parents. His love was purchased through expensive gifts, gifts that were ultimately for his parent’s benefit over that of his actual happiness. Even as an adult, Roman struggles HARD showing love and ultimately does the same as he was taught, showering people he’s infatuated with in gifts and other materialistic possessions. Unlike his parents, Roman actually tries giving them things they like in hopes it makes them appreciate him more. Roman unfortunately does not love himself. After Circe left him as a young man, he doesn’t believe anybody ever truly loved him and never will, so he doesn’t see any point pretending otherwise. On good days he’s hopeful, happy to delude himself for a while that he’s in a serious relationship with somebody who really cares about him and not his reputation or wealth. These daydreams don’t usually last very long, nor do his relationships when it becomes obvious that it’ll never go anywhere past hedonistic materialism. Roman hates breaking up but he can’t stand being alone for too long either, resulting in the cycle repeating itself with a new girlfriend hoping to get spoiled. He’s not really sure anymore, or if love is even something he was ever meant to have.
N - Navigator - What’s their sense of direction like? Do they have a set path in life that they’re planning on following? What do they do if they’re knocked off course?
Pretty good! Staying in Gotham throughout his life has given Roman a keen mental map to fall back on, allowing him to pinpoint the best locations to purchase fronts for his operations as well as hideouts for when he needs to lay low for a while. He does where he pleases, setting his sights on a goal and climbing from there. After losing Janus Cosmetics, Roman decided that if he could not join the ranks of Gotham’s most prestigious families, he would simply become a crimelord instead. He managed to do so years later, becoming the first kingpin to gain control of the city in over 20 years. When knocked off course, he’ll retreat, lick his wounds and regroup, learning from his mistakes and recitifying his behaviour before attempting to regain all he’s previously lost.
✧
Send me a ✧ and my muse will tell yours the first thing they notice when they look at them
It was late when the news finally came on, attracting his attention as he stood outside on his balcony with a smoke in hand. Inhaling a lungful of the noxious fumes, Roman tore his gaze away from the smoggy view of the city sprawled before his eyes, flicking his cigarette over the railings without even bothering to watch it fall down into the streets below. Barely two days had passed since Gotham’s mayor had been brutally murdered. The city itself had been rocked to it’s core, shaken out of it’s usual dystopian squalor even. Roman on the other hand had been most pleased, keeping an ear out for more information as to who had performed such a gruesome deed, and on Halloween no less. Perhaps it wasn’t too complicated. Anybody who knew anything about Gotham understood perfectly well how corruption ran as deep and filthy as the waters of the polluted bay just outside his bedroom view. Snatching up a bottle of whiskey, Roman made his way over to the sofa and sat down, pouring himself a shot of the golden liqueur while he listened to the reporter’s rambling on what was about to follow being potentially disturbing to some viewers. Whatever he’d been expecting to see that night, it hadn’t seeing the mysterious killer so soon. There on the screen was a masked figure, dressed in a matching suit of dark army green with a customized question symbol painted upon his front in white. Roman wasn’t surprised to see that; concealing your identity was a smart thing to do really and the man tilted his head, gaze flickering over the material covering his(?) - Roman believed it to be his - face, just barely able to make out a pair of eyes hidden behind a gleaming pair of glasses. It had to be him, the killer who had slaughtered Mitchell, Jr. and Roman grew ever more satisfied when this person, this Riddler he’d called himself confirmed his deed. Not only that but he’d also captured another member of authority, this time revealed to be none other than Commissioner Savage. Roman smirked at the sight of the familiar face on the screen. He recognized the poor bastard immediately even with his head locked inside a cage full of rats, the whites of his eyes rolling around in terror as he watched the filthy little animals scurry closer and closer to his face. What was disturbing to other people was peak comedy to Roman, knowing how the precious police commissioner had his finger in plenty of pies around the city he’d sworn to protect. How tragic for him that after all these years of ‘dedicated’ service, his actions (or lack of) had caught up to him at long last. Pity, really. Couldn’t happen to a nicer guy. Still, Roman wasn’t interested in the fate of a man certain to be dead by now. His attention was focused primarily on the one who’d called himself the Riddler, listening with rapt attention as the budding serial killer promised he would kill again and again until he’d finally unmasked the truth about Gotham. Unmasked. What an apt choice of word for a place where people wore masks on a daily basis. “The Riddler, huh? Gotta say I like his mask...” Roman laughed out loud, speaking to nobody in particular as he toasted the television screen with his glass of whiskey before downing the contents of glass in one go.
✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪ he,,, he really likes his face and wanted to say it,,,
Send my Muse some stars! ( ✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪ = oh god you are hella sexy)
“Is that so?” Roman muttered quietly, inhaling on a cigarette. He hadn’t expected that answer but strangely enough he wasn’t entirely opposed to it either. “You’re not looking so bad yourself, Riddler.”
🧲 >:)
Send 🧲 for a list of what my muse finds attractive about yours || @deciphertheriddler
“The Riddler? Oh, I dare say there’s one or two attractive things about him...” Roman mused, his tone becoming thoughtful as he pondered about the killer. Such bold action he’d taken, striking swiftly as he did brutally at the heart of corruption beating amongst the filthy veins of Gotham. Roman had been transfixed by the case ever since the news reported that the mayor had been slaughtered within the comforts of his own home, his head bashed in and wrapped up in duct tape for his poor little son to find. Roman was no stranger to death but the casual, even poetic manner in which the Riddler had dispatched his victims sung to him on a whole other level. His fascination only grew with the second murder, when he’d captured Commissioner Savage and locked his head in a cage full of rats. Killing your enemies was one thing, but drawing it out, making sure they knew damn well why they were being killed was not only an effective method of instilling fear but a work of art. Truly the trap in which the Riddler had designed to punish the corrupt cop was a marvel, such a simple yet effective act of torture he’d unleashed upon somebody he had a truly ferocious grudge against. This was no simple-minded slaughter done on a mere whim; it had to have been personal and Roman only wished he could have had been there to watch it all unfold instead of being treated to a short video hinting at the man’s slow, agonizing demise once the budding serial killer was done streaming. Torture. So many people couldn’t understand how wonderful it could be, couldn’t appreciate how necessary it was. The Riddler did though, executing his kills in karmic fashion that had rightly attracted the attention it did. Other people may have been fixated on his riddles, the puzzling manner in which he spoke during his videos but Roman paid attention to the things he did and liked what he saw. ”I’ve always liked it when people put their money where their mouth is, you know? The Riddler doesn’t just say things, he does them as well and honestly... he’s not wrong.” Roman chuckled as he sipped on a glass of red wine. “Clever guy. I bet he’s real witty too, you can tell by the sheer amount of thought he’s put into this. I dig the mask too, though I do find myself wondering... what sort of adorable face beneath could be hiding such wicked intentions?”
Slurred words
Send “slurred words” to hear my muse describe yours whilst ridiculously drunk.
“The Riddler? I don’t know whether to like him or to wring his scrawny little neck...” Roman said, humming thoughtfully while sipping at his drink. Truthfully he hadn’t had any major issues or conflicts of interest with the other mask-clad villain; in fact he’d even appreciated some of his deeds, particularly his ability to strike terror into the hearts of those corrupt souls who claimed to protect Gotham while secretly plundering her wealth in secret. It wasn’t the crimes which sparked his disdain of the city’s political elites, rather the fact he simply couldn’t stand two-faced people and took pleasure in the brutal nature of their deaths. ”Look, don’t get me wrong. The way he killed the mayor and the police commissioner? That shit was fucking hilarious, especially sticking Savage’s head into a rat trap! It must have been a nasty way to go, having his face eaten off while he was still alive so I’ll give our friend a 10 for creativity and 20 because I really hated that guy. The riddles though? I’ve got to remove points for them. Yeah yeah, they’re his ‘thing’ or whatever but for fuck’s sake, do they give me a headache trying to figure ‘em out.” Contrary to the Riddler’s scheming intellect and mind games, Roman preferred dealing with his problems as swiftly and directly as possible. It was one thing watching him put others to the test and humiliate them in a battle of wits but dealing with that situation was not his idea of fun, nor were his little guessing games. “I just want to know one thing... just where the fuck did he get a goat from?”
Stepping out of the vehicle he’d arranged as transport, Roman cut an unusually colourful figure in hues of teal and saturated red instead of his usual white and black. The Cathedral of Crime Alley, once having laid abandoned for years was positively bustling with activity as people came from far and wide to celebrate Edward and Rokshana’s wedding, with yet more guests arriving by the minute. Casting an eye around the place, it wasn’t long before he spotted the man everybody had come to see. Edward was already here, greeting all who came to him but he looked... bewildered, eyes darting around as nervously as his hands. Roman supposed he couldn’t really blame the man - anybody would be feeling the same where they in his position right now so he made his way over, ensuring his approach was in sight at all times. “Congratulations on your special day, Edward. I like the suit.” Roman said with a nod of approval, clapping one of Edward’s green-clad shoulders in what he hoped was a reassuring manner before lowering his voice to a playful whisper. “Just so you know, there’s still time to call everything off if you’ve changed your mind.” He added with a chuckle.
open
There was still time before the ceremony started, but Edward was already there, pacing by the entrance, clearly nervous. He was fidgeting with his hands, making an anxious noise that seemed completely involuntary.
He had read that it would be nice to actually receive the guests while he didn't have to go to the altar, but the best he could do was a give a wide-eyed, desperate look into the direction of people, and sometimes a belated nod.
Strap on or Double Sided Dildo?
Let’s Play A Game of This Or That? (NSFW Edition)
He laughed out loud at that one. “Didn’t think you had the nerve to ask, Eddie! Not bad though, but I think I prefer the strap on. For one thing it’s a hell of a lot easier to use plus there’s no fucking around with awkward positions. Height differences are already a pain in the ass without trying to twist myself into a pretzel.” Strap ons were just so versatile and easy to use, both for himself and his partner if necessary. He wasn’t opposed to the alternative option but he already had his preferences.